


a delicate touch

by epsiloneridani



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, kiss to distract, satine lived
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24530605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epsiloneridani/pseuds/epsiloneridani
Summary: The war is over. Maul is in custody. Mandalore is free.Obi-Wan and Satine. A quiet moment on a balcony.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze
Comments: 16
Kudos: 139





	a delicate touch

**Author's Note:**

> [ Tahl](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Tahl) was Qui-Gon's good friend and love interest in Legends lore. She gets a passing mention, but the link is provided in case you're curious.

“You seem preoccupied.”

Satine graces him with a nod, but doesn’t turn to face him. Her arms are braced on the palace’s balcony railing. Obi-Wan hesitates a moment, and then moves to join her.

“What makes you say that?” Satine asks. She’s long since done away with her elegant updo; her hair falls in ringlets around her face. They sway gently in the light breeze.

Obi-Wan shrugs. She gives a short laugh. “The Negotiator, lost for words?”

“No,” he says. “Just waiting for yours.”

Satine folds her hands on the railing. “Where do we go from here?” she asks. “The war is over. You have taken Maul into custody. What happens now?”

It strikes him to silence. “Forward,” Obi-Wan says at last. “Where else?”

“Is it so simple?”

“Should it be more complicated?”

“The future is always more complicated than we would like it to be, my dear Obi-Wan.”

There’s a note of wistful longing in her voice. He’s reminded of those long days on the run, when he was always close to her side. She would clasp his hand beneath the veil of their cloaks. If Qui-Gon noticed, he didn’t care to make a comment: too caught up in the pulsing thrum of the Living Force, perhaps.

It’s an excuse Tahl would have been proud of.

“The future of Mandalore,” Obi-Wan hedges, knowing he’s wrong. She shakes her head. A smile plays at her lips.

“Come now,” she says. “You know me far better than that.”

“Ah.”

Satine appraises him, apparently unimpressed. “ _Ah_ ,” she echoes. “They do still call you the Negotiator, do they not? Surely that hasn’t changed.”

“Cody actually had the ship’s name changed to _the_ _Negotiator_ when I took command,” Obi-Wan blurts. “He and Admiral Block found it amusing.”

“Be that as it may, perhaps the rumors of your eloquence have been greatly exaggerated, Master Kenobi,” Satine says airily, and flaps a hand at him. “I find myself bored.”

He catches her wrist and winds their fingers together. It earns him a fond glance. “This is how you negotiate, then?” she asks, and quirks an eyebrow. A twinkle of mischief gleams in the corner of her eye. “You should try this tactic on the representatives from the Trade Federation. I’m sure they would be most pleased.”

Obi-Wan scoffs. “Certainly not.”

“So it’s only for me?”

There are so many things that are only for her. “Of course, Duchess,” Obi-Wan says, and waves a hand before him in an imitation of a bow. “Your persuasion requires a more delicate touch.”

“And what would it take to persuade you, Master Jedi?”

His breath catches in his throat. “Of what?”

“You know what,” she murmurs. She tugs her hand away, but only so she can rest it atop his and tap at his knuckles with her fingertips. She’s staring at the skyline, not him. Her teeth drive into her lip, just once.

She’ll never ask it of him. She didn’t then and she won’t now. Obi-Wan makes himself breathe. The silence hangs heavy between them.

“My answer is the same as it has always been,” he returns softly. “You know where my loyalties lie.”

“With your Order.” There’s no bitterness, only calm acceptance. Affection. Pride, even. She admires his dedication, as he does hers.

“Yes,” he agrees. “In matters of duty, anyway.”

“And matters of the heart?”

“Jedi are forbidden from forming attachments, Satine.”

“The Republic is reforming,” she says lowly. “Maybe the Order will as well.”

It must, or Anakin will leave it. Obi-Wan pushes the thought away. “That may be too much to hope for,” he says. “It’s a foundational aspect of our doctrine.”

“You know what I think?” she asks suddenly.

He bites back the urge to sigh. “No, but I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

“I think it’s a misinterpretation.” She laughs at his incredulous face. “Don’t look at me as though I’ve just suggested heresy. I only mean that the Order’s doctrine has been passed down for generations. It’s not inconceivable to imply that, somewhere along the line, something may have been lost in translation.”

He would be lying if he said he had never considered that himself. Obi-Wan shakes his head. “It’s possible,” he says. “I suppose.”

“Do you want it to be possible?” She tilts her head at him. “Or is it easier for things to stay as they are?”

If there was no ultimatum, no sacrifice, if he could remain a Jedi and still stand at her side – Obi-Wan blinks against the sting prickling behind his eyes.

Must be the wind.

“Of course I want it to be possible,” he whispers. “But I have my duty, as you have yours.”

“If the doctrine changes, then so does your duty,” she points out. “You remain a Jedi.”

“If the doctrine shifts, then so does its significance.”

“If it has been wrongly interpreted, wouldn’t it be justice to see it made right? Perhaps, in some ways, the Jedi have been misguided.”

In more than some ways. Briefly, Obi-Wan thinks of Cody and all his brothers. They’re his family as much as the Jedi are, but with none of the same rights.

“I can’t argue with that,” Obi-Wan says mutedly. “You know that, Satine.”

“Then you concede.”

“On that point, yes.”

“And on all the rest?”

“You have only to ask.”

“You know I cannot.” Her eyes search his face. Slowly, she presses a hand to his cheek. He leans into her touch.

“Cannot?” he asks softly. “Or will not?”

“Both,” she says. “That choice is one you must make on your own.”

He swallows against the lump in his throat and dares to face her. She turns, too. “I’m afraid that will require a great deal of consideration,” he says. “It may be some time before I’m able to make a proper decision.”

“We have time, now,” Satine says. Her eyes are warm. Her touch trails down to cup his chin. His heart flutters in his chest. “I think it would be a waste if we failed to take full advantage of it, don’t you?”

In the blazing light of the burning sunset, she’s never looked more beautiful.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan says, and draws her to his chest. He bows his forehead to hers and slowly, carefully, lifts his hands to cradle her face.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers.

Then he kisses her, and for one eternal breath beneath Mandalore’s golden sky, everything is right.

\--


End file.
